


Arkadia: Youth Rehabilitation Facility

by BellarkeFanficaholic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Institutions, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 10:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12933255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellarkeFanficaholic/pseuds/BellarkeFanficaholic
Summary: “How did I get to this point?” she thought as she made sure her sleeve was pulled down over the fresh scar on her left wrist as she was following the admissions nurse through the maze of locked doors, “How did it get so bad?”TRIGGER WARNINGS:MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MURDER, DRUG USE, SELF HARM, POSSIBLE MENTIONS. OF SEXUAL ABUSE IN LATER CHAPTERSPLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE ABOVE OR ANYTHING RELATED TO THE ABOVE





	Arkadia: Youth Rehabilitation Facility

**Author's Note:**

> So recently I was in a mental health facility for wanting to kill myself and I met some really great people. We were talking about writing fanfic and how this was a good prompt for characters meeting and then developing relationships outside of the facility. 
> 
> BEFORE YOU COME AT ME YES I KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT HOW ALOT OF IT WORKS IN THERE. I WAS IN THERE FOR 8 DAYS SO TRUST ME I KNOW. SOME OF WHAT HAPPENS AND THE LACK OF SUPERVISION IS FOR PURELY DEVELOPMENTAL PURPOSES. 
> 
> So in the words of Manny MUA: If you dont like it don't fucking read it. 
> 
> ANYWAYS there are severe triggers in here and obviously they are things that have happened in the show that I based them on. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE dont read it if any of this upsets you. This is your last warning.
> 
> With that those of you that are still here please enjoy and let me know what you think!

_ “How did I get to this point?”  _ she thought as she made sure her sleeve was pulled down over the fresh scar on her left wrist as she was following the admissions nurse through the maze of locked doors,  _ “How did it get so bad?” _

 

Deep down inside Clarke knew how it got this bad. It was the first anniversary of her father’s and Wells’ death and her mother was spending it working, leaving her all alone and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was so goddamned tired of being alone so she let it push her over the edge. Turns out, the sight of her own blood was enough to make her pass out so she didn’t even finish ‘the job’.

 

All she remembers is her mother standing over her, shaking her shoulder, pain radiating from her wrist and her head pounding. Next thing she knows she was in the back of an ambulance getting asked 20 questions by the EMT’s and getting admitted to the hospital. 

 

Now she’s here, sitting in a freezing room with one window and comfy chairs that the staff referred to as the ‘comfort room’ while she waited for yet another nurse to come in and ask her even more questions. 

  
  


After Clarke spent what seemed like forever waiting in that room and then answering the same questions for the thousandth time they lead her to the day room where she saw other kids her age playing cards, reading or talking in cliques. 

 

As soon as she sat down a girl who looked a few years younger than her with dark brown hair bounced into the seat next to her.

 

“Hi I’m Octavia!” the girl, Octavia introduced herself, “Who are you?”

 

Before Clarke could respond she heard a deep voice from across the room, “O! Leave the poor girl alone and get back over here so we can finish this stupid game!”

 

Clarke looked over and was met with deep chocolate brown eyes filled with sympathy and she nodded her thanks at him as she heard Octavia mutter  _ “And I’m the rude one”  _ under her breath as she plopped back down in front of her side of the chess board. 

 

She looked around, realizing that these people were going to be who she spent her days with for the next 7-10 days. She scanned the room, taking in all the different faces and she couldn’t help but wonder what they all did to get into an inpatient short term mental health facility. 

 

There were two scrawny boys sitting on the floor over in the corner, one with an ‘Earth Day’ shirt on and shaggy hair and the other who looked like he could be at least part asian with black hair with a cross between a bowl and a mushroom haircut and kind eyes. 

Right next to them sitting in one chair with his feet in another with his arms crossed was another boy still scrawny but with slightly broader shoulders, a slightly offset nose and beady eyes with a cold stare. 

 

There were a few other girls sitting in a circle on the floor talking, however Clarke’s attention was once again drawn to the group on the floor. The boy, who looked more like a man to be honest, sitting across from Octavia with the dark eyes, inky black curls, a face dusted with freckles and broad shoulders. He was beautiful. Oh what Clarke would do to get her hands on a pencil so she could draw him. 

 

On either side of them there was a girl who looked latina with sleek brown hair pulled up into a ponytail laughing at Octavia’s poor attempts at chess and a light skinned boy sitting cross-legged silently watching the movement of the pieces. 

 

Sitting in a chair above them was a huge, bulking guy, with a shaved head and tattoos. He looked way too old to be in an adolescent facility. A few chairs down sat a girl with dark hair and a kind face, her feet pulled up under her reading a book with so many pages that it probably would’ve taken a lifetime for Clarke to read it but the girl was already over halfway finished. 

 

Clarke’s eyes flew back to the group as laughs erupted from the small circle when the boy took Octavia’s king. She smiled. Hopefully this place wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

  
  


She was reading the back cover of a book she found in the seat next to her titled ‘The 100’ by Kass Morgan when out of the corner of her eye she saw the boy sit down next to her. 

 

“It’s pretty good if you like the whole sci-fi thing.” he said nodding at the book in her hands, “I’m Bellamy.”

 

“Clarke.” 

 

“You’re a talkative one aren’t you?” Bellamy smirked at her, his sarcasm taking some of the pressure off.

 

Clarke hated that she was so focused on his beauty, but he was even more attractive up close. Gorgeous cheekbones and a jaw so sharp it could cut you. Freckles of all different sizes dusted over his entire face. A small scar right above his lip that made her curious about how it happened. 

 

“Oh yeah, I’m the loudest one here.” she smirked back and he chuckled. 

 

“I don’t know about that. O might give you a run for your money on that one.” he smiled at her and she gave a small smile back. “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you here?” he asked her, voice soft, eyes kind and a non-judgmental look on his face. Clarke didn’t know why but she felt like she could tell him, after all either way everyone was going to find out sooner or later.

 

Clarke looked down at her sleeve covered arm. She slid up her sleeve just enough for him to see the edge of the pink raised skin marring her otherwise blemish free pale skin. 

 

A tear fell down her face as she covered her arm back up with her jacket sleeve. She looked up and met Bellamy’s eyes and was met with what looked like a mixture between understanding and sadness. 

 

He reached down to his own sleeve covered wrist and pulled it up far enough to show three faint scars, almost fully healed near the bend of his arm. He pulled his sleeve back down.

 

“These do not define us. How we deal with what drove us to the point of creating them does.” Bellamy said, in a voice so small that Clarke almost didn’t believe that is was him that was talking. 

 

Clarke reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes, “Thank you,”

 

“My mom died 3 months ago,” he started and she realized that he was telling her why he tried to hurt himself, “I didn’t know what to do. I went numb to the point where I didn’t feel anything. Not anger, not sadness, not even fear about what was going to happen to me and O until I turn 18 in December.” 

 

Clarke looked at him confused

 

“O is my sister,” he clarified and she made an ‘ah’ noise and waited for him to continue, “I just wanted to feel something. I was in such a dark place that I couldn’t think of any other way to make myself feel  _ something _ even if it was pain.” He blinked back tears. “O found me on the bathroom floor, blood running down both my arms just crying. She called the cops and I was in the hospital a week and a half before they sent us both here.”

 

Clarke was blinking back tears for Bellamy, for someone who seemed so kind but was cursed with so much pain, and he had only scratched the surface that hid all his demons inside. 

 

“How long have you been here?” she asked, choosing not to ask him anything that might make him even more upset. 

 

“43 days. We aren’t going anywhere anytime soon either. They agreed to release O into my custody when I turn 18 in a few weeks since my mom left the apartment to me and I have her life insurance money to help me take care of her and pay the bills until I can find another job since I had to quit to come here. It’s fucked up but I’m not complaining. Most people don’t get a chance to prove to the state that they are fit. I do. She’s my sister, my responsibility.”

 

“I couldn’t imagine being here that long.” she replied in disbelief, not being able to fathom being the type of person that would take on raising their little sister when they were just a kid themselves. 

 

“You do what you have to to take care of your family. She’s all I have left.” Bellamy clears his throat, “So what’s your story, Princess?”

 

“Princess? Really?” she raised her eyebrows at him. 

 

He blushed, “It just fits you.”

 

Clarke took a deep breath, “My dad and best friend died in a car accident on the way to my junior art expo a year ago. A drunk driver slammed into the side of our car and we rolled. Wells, my best friend, died on impact. His head smashed against the window and he was gone before the paramedics got there. My dad,” she paused, taking a deep breath, willing the tears to go away, knowing they wouldn’t, “When the car rolled metal went into the side of his stomach. I had no idea what to do. He died in my arms.” the tears started to fall, just like she knew they would. Just like they always did. Bellamy reached out and grabbed her hand even though she knew that he knew he could get into trouble for physically comforting her. Then again he’d been there so long she doubted they cared what he did at this point. 

 

“It broke me. They were my two favorite people in the whole world and they got ripped away from me at the same time, right in front of my eyes.” she wiped the tears from her eyes and took another deep breath.

 

“The only way I got through this past year was knowing that they would want me to follow my dreams. They were my biggest supporters. My mom and I don’t really get along, because she wants be to be a doctor like her.” she chuckled tearfully, “I passed out at the sight of my own blood though so hopefully now she’ll give up on that. Anyways,” she sniffed and got back on track, “we aren’t close, but stupid me I thought she might actually care enough to spend the day with me. She picked up a double and was gone before I woke up and didn’t get back home till midnight when she found me. I was so tired of being alone, Bellamy, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to be with them.” She looked up into his eyes and let a tear slide down her face as she blinked. 

 

Bellamy squeezed her hand, “You aren’t alone here. We may not be much but the kids here, we are a family. We will always be there for each other. It’s a part of why this place helps. The delinquents help each other get better.” He comforted her, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. 

 

She choked out a laugh, “The delinquents? Really? Do you come up with special names for everything?”

 

“Like I said, it fits. Wait until you meet them all.” he grinned at her, pulling his hand back and getting her some tissues so she could wipe her face. 

 

“Here, I’ll give you the rundown.” Bellamy handed her the tissues and began to work his eyes around the room to start telling her who’s who. 

 

He pointed to the two scrawny boys sitting on the floor in the corner, “The white one is Jasper, the asian one with the hair is Monty.” 

 

Clarke smacked him on the arm, “Oh my god, that’s so racist!”

 

Bellamy laughed at her, “They’ve gone to school with O since elementary school. Usually I call Jasper goggles when I introduce him to people but no goggles in here so the white one and the asian one is all I’ve got.” 

 

She shook her head, “Okay whatever you say, o wise one.”

 

He put his hand over his chest and faked offense, “Ouch Clarke, we were supposed to be besties and I get sass. My feelings are hurt.” 

 

She rolled her eyes, “Oh you poor thing.”

 

Bellamy grinned at her again and damn that was a good look on him. “Anyways, they are here because both of their parents are workaholics who didn’t notice that they were growing and selling pot until the school figured it out and called them. Jasper’s parents are lawyers so they got a deal that they wouldn’t go to jail and wouldn’t go on their record as long as they spent 5-6 weeks in a treatment facility for ‘drug abuse and severe behavioral issues’,” he rolled his eyes, presumably thinking about how stupid someone had to be to believe that puppies like Jasper and Monty had ‘behavioral issues’.

 

Bellamy moved his attention to the now sleeping boy in the chair next to Jasper and Monty, “That one in the chair over there is Murphy.”

 

“Murphy?” she raised her eyebrows at him, “Is that another one of your famous nicknames?”

 

“Maybe yours should be smart ass instead of Princess.” he narrowed his eyes at her, even though they were filled with amusement, “But no, Murphy is his last name. John is his first but he goes off on anyone who calls him that. He went to my school for about 3 days before someone pissed him off and he had to move schools again. He’s not a bad kid though, he’s just been through some shit.”

 

Clarke snorted, “Haven’t we all?”

 

“Touche,” Bellamy agreed, “but other than Charlotte he’s probably been through the most here. His dad robbed a pharmacy because they couldn’t afford the medicine for Murphy to get better. His dad got him the meds but he didn’t know what he was doing so he got caught and went to jail. He was only supposed to be in there 12 months because the judge was lenient with him due to the circumstances but he was stabbed a month in.”

 

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god.”

 

Bellamy nodded, “Yeah. That was 4 years ago. His mom lost it after that, started drinking to the point where most of the time she forgot Murphy was even there. She choked on her own vomit and the last thing she told Murphy was that it was his fault that his father was dead. He’s had anger issues ever since. He punched a cop after they tried to take him back to the foster home where the foster-dad beat all the kids so they sent him here. He’s been here almost a month.”

 

“I don’t even know what to say. What you guys have been through is so much more than what I’ve been through.”

 

“Hey,” he scolded her, “we’ve all been through hard shit. Just because you don't think what you went through was ‘as hard’ doesn’t mean it's not hard.”

 

Clarke blinked back tears. Bellamy reminded her so much of a mixture of Wells and her dad. In the hour she’s been talking to him she knows he’s passionate and strong and caring and would do anything for the people he cares about, even at the expense of himself.  

 

“How do you do it? Stay so strong and still want to help people after the shit the world has put you through?” she clarified. 

 

“You have to focus on what you can change, not what you can’t. I couldn’t have done anything about what life has thrown at me. All I can do is the best I can to work through it. Not even for myself, for O. I will never let her get thrown into the system like our mom was.” he admitted to her. 

 

Clarke shook her head, “Damn. I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“It’s okay. There really isn’t anything else to be said.” he turned his attention to the group of girls on the floor, “That’s Echo, Anya and Lexa. They were all sent here together for cocaine addiction. I would stay out of their way if I were you. All they do is try and start shit. You can’t let them get to you. They’ll be gone in a day or 2 anyways, so you won't have to deal with their shit.”

 

“Understood.” Clarke knows the type. The rich party girls who do whatever they want just because they know they can and anyone who doesn’t accept that becomes a victim of their wrath. 

 

“You met O,” he shook his head as he looked at his sister, who was now playing cards with the pretty girl with the ponytail, “It sounds bad, but we are actually pretty lucky we both got placed here. She can get pretty angry. One of the assholes at her school called me a ‘crazy suicidal loser’ and our mom a whore right after I got sent to the hospital and she beat the shit out of him. She normally is pretty good about not letting people get to her but obviously she was going through a rough time. They sent her here for her bipolar disorder and for anger management.”

 

Clarke raised her eyebrows, “So my first impression was right; she’s a spitfire.”

 

Bellamy let out a bark of laughter, “Spitfire is one of many words I would use to describe my sister.” he said loud enough for Octavia to hear and she flipped him off over her shoulder and that just made us laugh harder. 

 

Once we calmed down Bellamy started talking again, “The girl playing cards with her is Raven. Her dad was never in the picture and her mom is a drug addict. She’s mainly just here for placement but she will probably turn 18 before they find somewhere for her, considering her birthday is in 6 days.”

 

“Wait they just sent her here for placement?” Clarke asked dumbfounded that they would send a girl to a mental hospital just so they could find her placement. 

 

“Well she has anxiety so they sent her here so that they could get her meds regulated and she wasn’t in a stressful environment that could make her worse.” He explained and Clarke made another ‘ah’ noise at his explanation. 

 

“The one next to them is Miller. Before you ask, no, it’s not ‘one of my stupid nicknames’. His first name is Nathan or Nate, he just prefers Miller.” he explains about the quiet boy, Miller, in the beanie, “He’s here for theft. It's kind of ironic actually because his dad is a cop where he's from. Hence, why he’s here and not in juvie. Again, he’s a good kid.” 

 

He grins at her, “I do have a nickname for him though. Robin Hood. He steals and then gives most of it to those who have nothing.”

 

Clarke busts out laughing, “You and these damn nicknames.” her laugh echoes throughout the room and the others smile at her. “Okay Mr. Storyteller who’s next.” she snarks at him.

 

“Um, excuse you. My nickname is ‘The Rebel King’ because  _ I _ am the leader of the delinquents. You, Princess, are not very good at giving nicknames.” He sassed her back.

 

“Jesus Christ. You are a hot ass mess with all these fucking nicknames.” she laughed at him.

 

“At least I’m a hot one.” He winked at her and she felt her face turn red.

 

Thank God he let that one go, “The big muscley one with no hair and tattoos is Lincoln.”

 

Clarke couldn’t contain her laughter, “‘The big muscley one’” she said between breaths of laughter, “Really? You realize you have muscles too right?” she kept laughing while he looked at her amused, “You really couldn't come up with anything better than the big muscley one? Your street cred on nicknaming just went way down.”

 

He smirked at her again, “I’m glad you noticed my muscles.” and then he had the audacity to wink at her while she sat there slack jawed. 

 

“Is that really all you got out of that? You’re hopeless.” she rolled her eyes at him again as he laughed at her disbelief. 

 

“You keep rolling your eyes and they are going to get stuck like that, Princess.” he continued to laugh at her.

 

“I could say the same thing about that smirk that stays on your face.” she raised her eyebrows at him.

 

“Touche again, Princess.” he smiled softly at her. There was something about him that Clarke found comforting, “Anyways, Lincoln’s family is part of a gang that was using drugs to try and make assassins. They used him as a test subject. Thank god they were fucking stupid and didn’t know what they were doing, otherwise he might have been beyond help. He’s a big softy once you get to know him though and he will have your back no matter what. He’s loyal.”

 

“Oh my god. His own family drugged him?” Clarke could feel that this place was going to give her a wakeup call.

 

“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy.” he agreed with her, looking at Lincoln with more sympathy in his eyes than she thinks Lincoln would accept. 

 

“What about her? The quiet one?” she asked as they got to the last person in the room.

 

“That’s Maya. She tried to OD on a bottle and a half of tylenol. She’s a sweet kid, she has manic depression and was scared to tell her parents. Jasper has a huge crush on her.” he explained and then nodded over at Jasper. 

 

“I can see it.”

 

“Charlotte and Atom are in their rooms. Charlotte doesn’t feel good today and Atom just kinda does whatever he wants.” he shrugged his shoulders

 

“Why are they here?” she asked, curiously.

 

“Nobody really knows for sure why Atom is here. We are pretty sure he’s schizophrenic or just got a bad batch of drugs. Honestly it’s probably both. He’s pretty interesting, that’s for sure.” he talked in a low voice.

 

“What about Charlotte?” she asked, now even more curious.

 

“Her parents were murdered. She came home from a sleepover and found them. Her friends mom called the police and when they showed up they tried to take her away from her mom’s body and she freaked out and started swinging on them. They sent her here to work through it and to keep her safe, since they still haven’t caught the guy. She's been here 62 days.” he finished with a pained look on his face.

 

“Jesus Christ. That poor girl.” she was horrified that someone had to go through something like that, let alone a child. 

 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” 

 

She sat and talked to Bellamy for a little while longer, opening up to him. Telling him things that she hadn’t even told her therapist. She felt like she could trust him. 

 

“You think you’re ready to go ahead and face the delinquents?” he asked her after a while, with an encouraging smile.

 

“Yeah, I’m ready. They’re my family now after all right?” she smiled timidly back at him. 

 

“Yeah. We are.” he looked at the rest if the delinquents.

 

“Hey guys,” Bellamy started, loud enough so that they could hear him, “This is Clarke. I’ve already talked shit about all of you to her. Don’t be nosy fucks. I’m talking to you, O.”

 

“I’m not the one who has been over there making her cry, big brother.” she sassed back, not taking her eyes off of the cards in front of her.

 

Bellamy just rolled his eyes, probably knowing that arguing with her was pointless. 

 

The rest of them just laughed and echoed hellos. Clarke knew they were trying not to overwhelm her and she appreciated it. 

  
  


A few hours had passed, and Clarke was finally calming down. It felt like these people actually got her, and in a sense they did.

 

They had to line up to walk in the hallway and count off, which she thought was a little weird but hey, she had bigger things to worry about. They were walking down the hallway laughing at the way Jasper freaked when he finally beat Raven at speed (she let him win, but Jasper doesn’t need to know that). 

 

They made their way through the line for dinner and Clarke had to admit, it looked pretty good. Definitely better than whatever she finds in the fridge when her mom is working nights, and definitely better than her mom’s poor attempts at cooking when she was home at night. Her dad always was the chef of the family. The thought brought a watery smile to her face.  _ Damn she missed him. _

 

She was sitting with Bellamy, O and Raven today because apparently depending on the staff sometimes boys and girls couldn’t sit together. Bellamy and Octavia were talking shit, telling stories of embarrassing things they’d done throughout their childhood when a big clash came from behind them. 

 

Clarke acted on her first instinct.  _ Get down. _ So she did. She got up and crouched in the corner next to her chair with her knees against her chest and her head on her arms and started crying. She tried to breathe but she couldn’t. Her vision was spotty, her ears were ringing. She tried to focus on breathing.  _ In, out, in, out. _ It wasn’t working. All she could see was Wells’ dead body in the backseat, eyes open and cold; Her father’s blood everywhere as she watched the life slowly fading from his eyes as he told her he loved her for the very last time. 

 

Next thing she knew strong arms were wrapping around her. Pulling her out of the fetal position, Mr. Marcus at her feet, making sure her legs were straight while she was leaned back against somebody's chest.

 

That’s when she heard Bellamy’s voice saying her name, “Clarke, it’s okay. You’re safe. You hear me? You’re safe.” she could tell that Bellamy was trying to comfort her but it wasn’t working. It was just making her think even more about why she was freaking out.

 

Because she’s not okay. She hasn't been okay in a year. 

 

_ A hell of a first day.  _

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you actually stuck around and read it thank you so much! I would love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
